Do I Really Count? The Diary of Molly Hooper
by NikoRu Rene
Summary: Molly Hooper always loved Sherlock Holmes with all her heart. But does she really matter to him, too? Awful Summary, Might turn into a two-shot


4

Do I Really Count?

The Diary of Molly Hooper

* * *

September 12th, 2010

He came in today. The man that is the exact epitome of everything I love. The man who turns me upside down when I feel ready to stumble upon his gaze. The man who can read anyone like an open book, and yet keeps his own secured with lock and key.

Sherlock Holmes. 221B Baker Street.

He's not like everyone else, by far. He's dark and mysterious, which I know sounds cliché, but…I'm a very cliché person in nature. Sherlock can deduct every single clue from any dead body I bring into the morgue with just a simple glance. Such a talent cannot just be given to some, but only to a true genius. Thank God it was to someone like him…

Sherlock Holmes came in today to see a body that had just came in. The man was sixty-seven years old and died of natural causes. I had known him prior to his death. He was a nice man who had worked here as a janitor. He would always come by and chat with me while cleaning the tables and countertops, just little pleasantries, nothing special. But it was enough for me to remember him, even in death.

"We'll start with the riding crop." I can't simply explain the utter smoothness and pitch of his voice - that Sherlock Holmes…all I know is that it causes a chill to freeze my nerves the minute I hear it. He then flashed me one of his rather unreadable smiles. With anyone else, it would have been a 'I-might-be-a-tad-insane-but-you-can-still-think-of-me-as-brilliant' smile, but in the case of Sherlock, even a smile like that can be misleading. VERY misleading.

I guess I must explain the whole 'we'll-start-with-the-riding-crop' business. Sherlock is a consulting detective, the only one there is. The police turns to him when they're fresh out of clues, and he always gets his man…always. Anyway, Sherlock uses a riding crop to slash at the dead body in some cases, depending on the circumstances in which the other clues he has deducted leads him in. So I watched him for some time, slashing at the dead body as if he was enjoying it. Eventually, I came back to stand beside him, and one single crack of the crop ended his attack on the dead.

"So…bad day, was it?" I forced myself to giggle jokingly, feeling a blush cover my face. I knew it was hopeless to try and delve into a 'normal' conversation with Sherlock Holmes for one simple reason: he was far from normal himself.

Sherlock was typing away in his cellphone animatedly, as if he had to get in the message before anything else. I took this time to watch him, like I always did. I understand that it must sound rather…creepy of me to be watching him like this, but…you just don't understand.

You have no idea how much Sherlock Holmes means to me.

"You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before." I heard Sherlock speak which caused me to jumpstart. I almost hadn't heard him from the dream-like state that I fell into.

"I-I, uh, refreshed it a bit…l-listen…" I could feel my face flush again. Was I really going to do this? I never summoned up enough nerve before…perhaps this would be the day. "I-I was wondering if… maybe later when you're finished…if you would like to have coffee-"

"Black, two sugars please. I'll be upstairs." He had said it so quickly and walked away so swiftly that I couldn't even catch my breath. No…this wasn't the day. A little 'okay' wisped out of my lips while I watched him leave. A simple approach wouldn't cut it with his man, no doubt. He was too…clever? No. Just…perhaps he just wasn't interested. But I knew I wouldn't let myself believe that. I knew I wouldn't be able to give up that easily on Sherlock Holmes.

Of course I made Sherlock Holmes his coffee. Black, two sugars, just like he said, but before I went up to the lab he was working in, I trailed into the bathroom and smeared off the lipstick I had applied while he was in the morgue. I honestly thought it was my perfect shade, my perfect color…and yet, he said nothing about it. He noticed it, but he never said a world further. So, I guess it didn't do that much for my image. So, I gave up on it.

When I walked in, Sherlock almost instantly came up to me. Definitely a good sign; I could hear myself squealing in delight in the back of my mind.

When Sherlock asked me what happened to the lipstick I was wearing…I nearly lost it. So he DID notice! Much more in fact that he noticed that it was GONE! There was hope for me yet!

"It just wasn't working for me," I replied as coolly as possible, trying desperately to reel Sherlock into a compliment such as 'But it looked so lovely on you, Molly. You should wear it more often, it is quite becoming with your beautiful eyes!'

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too…small now." He gave a little wave of his hand as he struggled slightly to conjure up the word 'small' in his head.

All I did was reply with my weak, little 'okay' and shuffle out of the lab. I could have sworn my heart let one more crack rip through its shell when I closed the door.

-Molly Hooper

* * *

October 2nd, 2010

The next time I saw Sherlock Holmes, I had brought my boyfriend to the lab to introduce them. Jim and I had only met recently at the time – about, oh say…two days prior – when he told me that he had heard about the famous consulting detective. In all honesty, part of me wished that Jim didn't bring him up. The whole reason as to why I wanted to go out with Jim was to get my mind OFF Sherlock. I started to realize that it was somewhat hopeless in my efforts to try and capture him. I didn't matter as much to him as he did to me. So, I decided to move on, as reluctantly as I possibly could.

Be that as it may, however, when Jim mentioned Sherlock, I realized something. Perhaps I could use Jim to make Sherlock jealous. I could see it all perfectly in my mind: When I bring Jim into the lab, Sherlock attempts to hide look of shock and disappointment in his eyes. I introduce Jim as my boyfriend, and Sherlock fails with said attempt to hide his real feelings, then all hell would break loose. Sherlock would tell Jim to leave, never come back, and tell me that he loves me and never wants to live a day without me by his side. Oh, it all sounded so perfect!

…In my mind, that is.

What really happened, however, was too mortifying to bear, or even write out. The conversation that followed once Jim had left to wait for me in the hallway consisted of Sherlock explaining to me rather intensely that Jim was actually gay, that I had gained three pounds – "Two and a half." "Well, three." - and that I should break it off and save myself the pain. It never occurred to me that Sherlock would be this brutal to his friends, but maybe this was just a concealed statement that I really WASN'T his friend…

And thusly, another crack ensued.

-Molly Hooper

* * *

December 25th, 2010

I can say, without a doubt in my mind, that this was the best Christmas that I've ever had. And I have no problem filling as many pages as needed to explain.

I was late when I entered 221B Baker Street, but only because I felt the need to look my very best. I had bought a new dress for the occasion, a lovely black dress, gathered accessories that only accented the gentle decorations that snared around it. I applied my makeup carefully, slowly…applying the lipstick last. When I arrived in Sherlock Holmes' apartment, I noticed everyone else was there as well. Gregory Lestrade, Jonathan Watson and Mrs. Hudson, their landlady among others I had only faintly recognized. However, my eyes were purely on Sherlock Holmes. He was holding his violin. I remembered the time that Sherlock had swept into the lab carrying the instrument and proceeded to play while he was thinking. I couldn't recall a more delicate and beautiful melody, played by those long and graceful fingers of his. From that night on, I couldn't help but dream that he would play a song, just for me…

"I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him." I hadn't registered completely what he had said until he was making his way toward me.

"S-sorry, what?"

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and you're giving him a gift." I couldn't understand what he was getting on about. I didn't have a new boyfriend, and I only brought gifts for the people I knew who were going to be there. Where was he getting this idea? I heard John and Greg scold Sherlock under their breath – "Take the day off…" "Shut up and have a drink." – but Sherlock had made his way to my large bag of gifts and promptly pulled one out in particular and started to examine it. My breath caught in my throat.

"Oh, come on, surely you've all seen the present on top of the bag?" He gestured the gift he was holding and continued to look it over, as if he was examining a crime scene. "Perfectly wrapped with a bow, all the others are slap-dash at best. For someone special then. Shade of red echoes her lipstick-" I felt my face go red when Sherlock's eyes met mine swiftly. "-either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Ms. Hooper has LOOVE on her mind." I had to look away, feeling tears prickle the edges of my eyelashes. "The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact that she's giving him a gift at all, that would suggest hopes of a long-term relationship. And the fact that she's seeing him tonight is obvious from her makeup and what she's wearing. Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and-"

I was too busy fighting back the urge to cry out of humiliation when Sherlock had realized who the gift was for. The gift was for him.

"Dearest Sherlock, Love Molly xxx" it read.

"…You always say such horrible things," I said, feeling my voice crack under the sobs that threatened to escape my throat. Everyone else in the room was silent at this point, watching in shock that Sherlock had done such a heartless thing. Sure, he was known for making such awful statements, but…this one was taken too far. Well, for me, at least. "Every time…" I could only hear the sound of my own heart beating and the voices in my head praying for my tear ducts to magically dry up. "Always…"

This was the last straw. Sherlock Holmes may have pulled on my heartstrings too many times in the past, but this time, he stretched them beyond their limits. I had taken so much verbal abuse from him over the years, but this…this was just too much for me to handle. Why DID he have to say such awful things so freely, without any regard to someone's feelings? I knew that he was a sociopath, but…did he have any take on people's feelings at all? Even if they're brief…they should give you a clue that you're hurting someone and you're going too far…but Sherlock obviously didn't have a heart to begin wi-

"I am sorry."

The entire room was quiet now. I couldn't hear my heartbeat anymore. All I could notice now was Sherlock Holmes staring deeply into my eyes. But not in the examining way. In a truly…deep way. As if he was truly, truly sorry. "Forgive me."

Everyone in the room was utterly stunned. Jonathan Watson was incredulous, staring at Sherlock with more disbelief than anyone else.

I hadn't noticed how close Sherlock Holmes was until I could feel his breath on my forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper."

He leaned down, kissing my briefly on the cheek, and pulled back to gaze at the floor, his eyes, for once, somewhat readable.

He was truly, truly sorry this time. For the first time, he was actually apologizing for being himself, the sociopath that he was.

This is why I haven't given up hope just yet. This is why my heart is still beating for him.

This is why I'm still completely in love with Sherlock Holmes.

-Molly Hooper

* * *

**END!**

**Okay, then! For all of you who don't know (Which I'm sure is ALL of you) I have a HUGE thing for BBC Sherlock. I got into it late August last year and I've been hooked ever since!**

**Anywhoo, I got the idea for this from a video I found on Youtube. The video was called You Do Count by Deductism, using the cover of Paradise by Tyler Ward. The video instantly took me by the heart, and I KNEW I had to write something for this. And so, here it is. For now, it's a one shot, but I MIGHT turn it into a two-shot if need be. **

**Please let me know what you think. I'd be delighted to hear from you. **

**-NikoRu Rene**


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